A Little Christmas Dream
by ShiranuiAmmy
Summary: Matthew dreams about when he was young  pure fluff .  PruCan at the end…


A little Christmas Dream

Summary: Matthew dreams about when he was young (pure fluff). PruCan at the end…

Matthew's tiny hand rubbed his eyes sleepily as he sat up in an unfamiliar oversized bed. He hugged the ever present Kumajiro closer to him as he looked around the room. It took only moments to remember that his papa had taken him to his home for Christmas and that this was in fact Papa France's room. He had his own room in the castle but he often had nightmares when he had to sleep alone in an unfamiliar place so he would always sneak into his papa's bed.

The candles had been snuffed out and the only light came from the moon glow streaming in through the floor length windows. The room was a gilded affair, just like the rest of his papa's castle with pastel walls and ornate furnishings. It never failed to impress the tiny Canadian territory and he always liked to imagine his papa as a prince in a fairytale.

Music wafted from somewhere else in the castle, and finding himself quite awake now Matthew decided to investigate. He slipped out of the bed and his tiny bare feet landed quietly on one of the many plush rugs that adorned the wooden floor. He was only clad in a white nightgown but with his pet polar bear with him the cold was unable to reach the boy.

With all the stealth inherent in a tiny child he padded out of the room and down the cavernous hallways towards the enchanting music. Matthew knew that his papa played the pianoforte but there were other instruments that he could hear as well. He hesitated at the doors to the grand drawing room, unsure of what he would find on the other side. After a few moments of hesitation he pushed open one of the doors as quietly and peeked inside.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the trio on the other side of the room laughing raucously as they continued to play their respective instruments. They had obviously started out the night in formal attire but all three had stripped down to their collared shirts and trousers since then. The tables around them were strewn with liquor bottles of varying types and while most were empty, some still retained their contents.

His papa was playing the pianoforte as he had thought and the small boy's eyes lit up in immediate admiration of his father's talent. Francis' face was flushed from a combination of alcohol and laughter but his fingers flew across the keyboard with skilled precision. Matthew had tried to learn to play from his papa but he despaired that he would ever be as good.

France shared the bench with a man that the little Canadian vaguely recalled as being the incarnation of Spain. He sat facing the opposite direction as Francis and was strumming a lute with similar precision. His skin was tan and in the candle light he looked almost golden compared to the alabaster Frenchman beside him. He had a content look on his face as he kept up with his companions' pace and only faltered when he paused to take another sip of wine out of a glass that he was sharing with Francis.

The third man in the room was unlike anyone Canada had ever seen, human or country. His skin was whiter than his papa's and his hair was the color of untouched snow. His smile was crooked and the way he played his black violin reminded Matthew of the devil, it didn't help that his eyes were blood red either. He was handsome but it was in a cold way that scared the boy, almost as if he would be more at home on a battlefield than in Matthew's papa's home playing music. The man barked something about Austria at the other two and all three burst into more laughter without breaking the sound of the music they played.

Maybe he was Prussia? Canada knew that his papa was friends with the Teutonic kingdom and would often speak of him to the little boy. It would mostly be stories about some crazy quest they had gone on together with Spain or how they had rescued a princess from a tower. He also knew that his papa would make up stories to impress him and protect him from what really went on in Europe but he would always secretly hope that there was some truth to them.

The song seemed to weave a spell around them, shrinking the world to just them in that corner of the drawing room and Matthew was loathed to break it. He feared that if he did the entire world would dissolve and he would wake up back in his little home in Canada with only Kumajiro for company. The polar bear cub in his arms however, was getting restless and had begun to squirm.

"No Kumichi, you'll interrupt them!" he whispered harshly to the bear.

"Qui?" The cub asked quizzically. The bear had a habit of speaking in French on occasion, almost as if to remind him that he should be practicing his papa's native tongue.

"Je suis du Matthieu!"

Kumajiro continued fidgeting despite the little boy's frantic murmuring in multiple languages for him to be quiet. The bear kicked out at one point and hit the door with his paw, causing it to open further and startle the three men inside the room.

The beautiful music stopped immediately as all three grown countries turned to look at the little boy.

"Matthieu, what are you doing out of bed?" His papa asked, turning to face him fully. Francis swept an errant gold lock out of his face as he looked at the little boy in the doorway.

Canada bit his lip as an intense wave of shyness swept over him and he hugged the finally still Kumajiro closer. "I-I wanted to hear you p-play."

A smile lit up France's face that reinforced the little boy's impression that his papa was really an angel. He stood and walked over to his young ward, "Vous êtes le plus doux des enfant que j'ai jamais rencontré," he laughed. "I will play for you tomorrow, but for now you need to go to sleep. Come I will walk you back to my room since you always seem to end up there anyways."

"Oui papa," Matthew replied dutifully as he took his papa's hand to follow him out.

"Vous êtes vraiment trop sucré pour moi," Francis laughed again before leading him out of the room.

Matthew woke up to the harsh tones of his alarm clock and smashed the snooze without really looking at it. He had dreamed about being little again, it was a good dream though and it left him with a warm glow in his chest. He loved dreaming about the peaceful times when he lived with Papa France, before England swept him away as a spoil of war.

The human shaped lump next to him grumbled something mildly incoherent and it took a few moments for the Canadian to decipher it as an inquiry about the time, "Its seven thirty, we should get up soon if we're going to make it to the airport to make our flight."

Another grumble that translated to "five fuckin' more minutes" issued from the covers. A small tuft of snow white hair peeked from between the blankets and the pillow, bringing back part of the dream.

"I dreamed about you last night," Matthew said, refusing to let the man next to him fall back asleep. Mostly because if he did it would mean they would invariably miss their flight.

An angry grunt was his only answer so he sat up and kept going.

"I dreamed that you were playing the violin with papa on the pianoforte and Spain on the lute," Matthew wisely left out how the dream was more France-centric and focused on luring his boyfriend out of dreamland with tales of his awesome, "it was the first time I ever saw you and I was so in awe-"

"Of course you were," a red eye could be seen from between the blankets now, "Because Fritz taught me to be the greatest violinist on the face of the fucking planet and that damn Austria has nothing on my musical genius."

Canada grinned at Gilbert's mention of Rodrich, "you said something similar to that in my dream as well."

"Well damn, you had a pretty awesome dream then," the albino said as single arm snaked its way towards Matthew's waist and expertly yanked him towards the now slightly more exposed Prussian. "I think that deserves a reward." A kiss was planted on Matthew's bare lower back making him shiver.

"Gilbert," he whined slightly, "we can't, we'll be miss our flight if we do that."

"We have three hours, the drive to the airport takes one and we packed last night. Besides I have some serious morning wood to take care of."

Matthew face palmed and would have continued to resist if the hand on his torso hadn't moved and begun tracing circles on his inner thigh. "I-I guess if we're quick."

"Oh vogelchen it's too bad for you that I fully plan to take my time," Gilbert snickered as he pulled Matthew under him.

The Canadian sent a silent apology to his papa; it seemed that they would be late for their Christmas visit this year.

Vous êtes le plus doux des enfants que j'ai jamais rencontré – You are the sweetest child I ever met

Vous êtes vraiment trop sucré pour moi – You're really too sweet for me

(I think Matthew and Kumajiro's French is rather self-explanatory, as is Gilbert's German endearment)

I adore the idea that France would be a wonderful father and since chibi Canada is about the cutest thing you've ever seen it isn't too hard to imagine that Francis dotes on him nonstop. I had an idea that Austria would snub the Bad Touch Trio by not inviting them to his Christmas Gala so they went to Francis' and rocked it out old school style instead. They of course had a much better time there then they would have had at Austria's anyways.

I hoped you liked it since it was totally written on a whim XD


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